Deciphering
by Alison16
Summary: James has finally found his match one night at the club. A spunky, witty strawberry blonde. But she's got a puzzle for him to solve first. Next gen. James Sirius Potter and OC. M for implications. Three shot
1. Chapter 1

**James, Fred II, Dominique, Louis, Roxanne, Scorpius, Al and Rose go out to a Muggle/Wizard Club for a night out. **

**Rose and the boys make a bet, and James gets a little carried away.**

**I was envisioning for Madeline to look like Natalie Dormer because I don't know she's amazing and it's my story.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

><p>"The whole night."<p>

"The whole night?"

"Yeaup."

Rose smirked at her cousins. Taking a sip from her glass, then pointing at Louis, she smirked, "You need the _whole _night, pretty boy?"

Louis glared at her, "No. I'm scared for these twits," he gestured to the three other cousins present, Fred, James and Al, "I don't want them to be disappointed when the birds fly to me."

Rose snorted, as James smiled, "_Bullshit_, mate. I'm pretty sure Al, Fred and I can get a girl to the booth faster than you can."

"Maybe me faster than you all," Fred chided, "Halfers are the thing now you know," he winked.

Rose looked at Al, "Got nothing to say, Alby? No smart remarks for us?"

The dark haired boy frowned, "I'm not up for this."

Rose scowled at him, "Al! It's the first night that we're all off training, work and school! Have a little fun!"

"I just don't like," Al began to explain, "That we're using some innocent girls for a bet. A bet that proves nothing but the fact that one of us is smoother than the others."

"He's got a point," Dominique agreed, hooking her arm into Al's and resting her head on his shoulder, "If it were me, I'd hate to find out that I was just part of some bet. That's why you're my favourite cousin, Alby, so sensitive," she patted his arm.

"_I'm _your favourite cousin, Dom," James pointed out, he turned to Al, "So you're out?" James asked, trying to hurry up.

"And you're still in? After what I just said?" Al asked, not really too surprised.

James grinned at him, "Of course I am. I've never backed down from a challenge! Especially not now when there's a chance of taking home a beautiful girl home _and_ especially when Rose is the challenger. What's on the line, Rosie? The muggle car your Grandad got you?" he asked, pulling out a pen and writing the beginning of the bet's rules on a napkin.

Rose slapped his arm down, stopping him from writing, "'Course not. That costs tons and I'm not going to let idiots like you wreck it, get it taken away, or _worse_, get the paint scratched and stain the seats. You don't even have a muggle license."

"You need to get your priorities straight," Scorpius murmured.

Rose ignored him, "Here's a better wager. The first one of you wankers to come back to this booth, introduce the poor girl to us, wins. The last one loses. But! Before you come back here, you've got to talk her up a bit, dance with her until she says stop, and you _must _have her number sprawled on your _left _forearm. The loser must buy everyone _whatever_ drink they like, and I'll even toss in ten galleons for the winner," she pulled out a brown sack of clinking coins from her purse.

Fred, James and Louis looked at her skeptically.

Louis cleared his throat, "And we've got the whole night," he clarified.

"Scared, Lou Lou?" Rose teased.

"'Course not. I just like to take things slow, let the lady feel relaxed-"

"I'm in," Fred cut in, signing his name on the napkin.

"Me, too," James said swiping the napkin away, and then signing it as well.

Louis grumbled, signing it last.

"Last chance, Alby," Rose singsonged.

He shook his head and frowned, "No thanks, I'm alright here."

"Good. Then you've got to put in a bet," Rose smiled.

"What?" Al said.

"You, Scorp, Dom, Roxy -when she gets back- and I are going to bet on which one of these doofuses will win," she smiled.

"Blimey, Rose, where are you getting all of this money? You're gambling like Malfoy died and gave you all his money," Fred gaped.

Scorpius glared at him.

Rose smiled, "Your dad gave me a raise," she said simply.

Fred's jaw dropped, "You've been working there for a week! How much is he paying you? Bloody hell-"

"Are we starting soon?" James drummed the table.

Rose shrugged, "Alright. Dom, Al, Roxanne, Scorp and I will be the judges. If we see any of you fools using some spells directly on the girl, that's a foul and then you've got to buy each of us judges a shot. _Even Veela charming counts as a foul_," she emphasized the last part for Louis, who grumbled.

"Bloody hell, Rose. Going out was more fun when you weren't around."

"Ten galleons," she sang, "I _know _that much money has never been tossed in as a prize when it was just you twats."

"She's got a point," Fred grumbled.

"Okay! Rosie, on your count," James clapped, "Let the best man, the best looking man, the most charming man, the funnier man-"

"Alrighty. On your mark, get set- Bloody hell, Louis! What now?" Rose groaned.

"Roxanne's here with the drinks. Just thought I'd get a sip before I go," he plucked a glass off of Roxanne's tray.

"Are you ready now, prince?" Rose deadpanned. He nodded and she counted again, "On your mark, get set, GO!"

The three boys sauntered off.

"What's going on now?" Roxanne asked, hiding the tray away, then scooting into the booth, next to Al and Dom.

Al handed her the contract/napkin.

"Ten galleons? Hell, I should have joined!"

**~~O~~**

Fred spotted a pretty brunette who was sitting alone. Her legs crossed, and her hand wrapped around a slim glass. He smiled, sauntering over to her.

**~~O~~**

Louis sighed, rubbing his hands on his slacks. This would've been so much easier if Rose hadn't taken away his right to use some Veela magic. _No worry_, he thought. Everything about charming a girl to getting her to come with him, he's learned from the older Weasleys, Fred and James. He knows all their moves, all their lines, and all the weaknesses to them. If he couldn't use magic, he'll have to stick to pure charm, natural looks and smarts.

**~~O~~**

James groaned as he saw Louis head off to a blonde, creamy skinned, fit girl, dancing on the floor. He taught the bugger _too _well.

Fred was already chatting up some pretty olive skin brunette, making her laugh, her hand already on his arm.

His own wingmen was getting on without him.

James huffed, straightened his jacket and observed the bar.

Tons of girls were there. Dark haired, blondes, redheads and brunettes. Dark skinned, light skinned, tanned and fair. So much for James to choose, but little he would actually be interested in. Plenty of them were with their friends, making it hard for James to sneak a move in, lots of them were either too drunk, or not drunk enough.

He sneaked glances to the bar, then to the dance floor, then to the booths. After his sixth rotation, he found her.

Just walking in, the strawberry blonde curled hair girl with light makeup, her white chiffon blouse tucked into beige shorts that showed off her long legs, black stilettos to clash against her light skin, James found the perfect girl.

She had just walked into the club, a black bag hanging on her arm as she took a seat at the bar, asking the bartender for a drink.

James smiled and _practically _skipped over to the girl.

But then she pulled out a folder from her bag, opened it and began writing.

_Oh boy._ James thought. _She might be a smart one._

Despite it though, James continued on.

He noticed that the girl had ordered a beer. Just a normal beer, whereas most of the other girls in the club had exotic, colourful, odd drinks.

He slid into the empty stool beside before some other bloke could then asked the bartender for Hot Magic Jack, one of the plenty Wizards' Drinks the wizard bartender had. It was just really firewhiskey with some spice.

He noticed the strawberry blonde sneak a confused glance at him and then went back to her writing. James couldn't help but grin.

He tried to peek at the paper the girl was scribbling notes on, "Are you an author? I'm quite the avid reader."

The girl didn't stop writing but answered, "No I'm not an author. Not really."

James raised an eyebrow, "Do you write for a paper?"

"Yes," she said, without looking up.

"What do you write?" he asked. It was _not_ going as smoothly as he hoped. The girl was a closed book.

"I am a journalist. A sports journalist," she said simply.

James racked his brain for Muggle sports, "You write about, erm, football, rugby and gulf, those things of the sort?"

The girl nodded and bit her lip as she focused on a sentence, "Yes. And I think you mean _golf_."

James swore in his head, "Yes, sorry. It's the drink, scratching my throat a bit," he pointed to the dark liquid in his glass.

She nodded again, "Right. What _is _that?"

"A drink," he answered.

She snorted.

James studied her. Usually by now, he'd have a girl on the dance floor, swaying with a drink in their hands as she whispered into his ear. Then a bit after that, they'd be snogging senselessly in an empty booth and sometimes after that, he'd wake up slightly hungover in his flat, a bare lady beside him.

Usually, the girl would've been interested in him. Watching him curiously, and admirably, hand on his arm, her other curling a strand of hair. They'd keep conversation up, and they'd be laughing at whatever he said. Usually, he'd say more than he had tonight.

_This _girl seemed to not have cared _he_, charming, handsome, witty James Sirius Potter was talking to her. Muggle or Wizard, ladies _loved _him.

So James did what he did when he didn't understand something. He studied it. He watched as the girl bite her inner left cheek, tapping the back end of her pen on the paper repeatedly. He watched as her legs crossed and how her foot tapped to the beat of the music.

"It's an odd place to work on something, don't you think?" he said, trying to get _something_ out of her.

She only shrugged, "I like it."

James swore in his head again. He began observing her again. He couldn't see much of her face he realized, Just enough to show she was pretty. Long eyelashes, button nose, and thin, soft lips. A small mole positioned in the crevice of her dimple that showed whenever she pursed her lips. Then she moved her left hand, moving her curls to one side of her, resting on the farther shoulder from him. It gave him a view of her slender, smooth neck, and her accented collar bones.

As she jotted down a few more notes with her right hand, her left curled around her beer bottle, her fingers wrapping around the neck, one by one.

James looked up to her face. Her eyebrows furrowed and her lips were rather in between her teeth or pursed. She looked oddly familiar.

"I think I've seen you somewhere," he said.

The girl raised an eyebrow, still not looking at him, "Hmph. Like I haven't heard that one before."

James shook his head, "I mean it. I've seen you somewhere. Like on a magazine or…"

She snorted, "I've heard that one, too," she finally turned to look at him, "I'm sort of doing something right now so maybe you can just tell me what you want. You're obviously trying to engage me into conversation but I'm sort of busy. So tell me what you need and maybe I can help you."

James gaped at her. No girl, except for Rose, has been so upfront with him. "I-I," eh cleared his throat, "Come dance with me," he tried to play it smooth, "Forget your paper and come with me," he offered his hand.

The sudden bounce back to his charm surprised the girl. She stared at his waiting hand and then shook her head, "You don't even know my name."

"That doesn't mean I'm not intrigued by you."

That caught her tongue. She looked at him, her mouth half open, trying to find out what she was going to say next.

"Well?" James asked, nodding towards the dance floor.

She shut her mouth, found out what she was going to say, then sat up straightly, "No thank you. Don't think I don't know what you're up to. You're doing a bet, and I'm just a subject. How much am I? 25 pounds?"

James looked at her, sipped his drink and then sighed, "A bit more really, but yes. I am in a bet."

His honesty surprised her.

"About 50 pounds is on the table at the moment, and if I try hard enough, a drive in my cousin's car is, too," James explained.

The girl raised an eyebrow, "A drive? What's wrong? You don't have your own car to drive."

James clenched his jaw, "It's a nice car."

"Right," she nodded, "Explain this bet to me, and _maybe_ I'll help you get your joyride."

So James did. Told her the rules, the prizes and the chances of the others winning and how if he doesn't win, then he'll _never_ live it down.

A hint of a smile played on her lips as James talked, he couldn't help but notice.

"So all you need is for me to drink with you, dance with you and sprawl my number across your arm?" she clarified.

James nodded, "Yes, the left arm, but it has to be in a way that convinces them that you _actually _like me."

She smirked, "See, I've got work to do. _But_ I can be persuaded."

"I'll pay for all your drinks," James offered.

She glared at him, "It's a Friday night. Free drinks for the ladies."

James apologized, "Sorry, forgot. What would _you _like?"

"I'm a bit famished, maybe you can buy me a plate of fish and chips after," she smiled.

James smiled back, "No problem."

"Okay. But one more problem," she said.

James raised an eyebrow.

"I don't dance," she said.

"What do you mean you _don't dance_?" he asked.

"I'm not the dancing type. Never danced on that floor before," she nodded to the ground.

James pondered a bit, the smirked, "Come with me, and I'll teach you how."

The girl snorted, "You'll teach me how?"

James nodded.

"Fine," she complied, "I'll go along with this bet."

James smiled widely, "Great. On that happy note, may I know your name?"

Again she laughed, "You've got this whole flirting thing upside down. Are you sure you've done it before? You're supposed to ask for the name _first_ then ask her to dance."

"I'm actually quite skilled in the art of seducing the opposite sex. Just a little thrown off tonight," he sneaked her a nervous look.

She shrugged, "Okay. Well I'm," she smiled, "I'm Olivia."

"Olivia…" James raised an eyebrow.

"Olivia," she said, "Just Olivia."

James shrugged, "Alright. Beautiful name," he considered telling her his real name, but thought against since this wasn't really anything. She was just trying to get him out of her hair and he was just trying to get into Rose's car, "I'm Sirius, Sirius Black."

The girl raised her eyebrows, "That's a peculiar name," she took a sip from her glass. James didn't notice the bartender refill it.

"Sirius, as in the dog star," James covered.

"Dog star. Ahh, okay alright. So Mr. Black, are you going to show me some moves?" she asked as she packed away her writings and slid it behind the bar. Almost like she's done it a million times before.

"Do you come here often?" he asked.

The girl snorted, "I've heard that one, too. Are you sure you're a pro charmer? And yes, I come here a lot. Just not during this slot, no."

"It's just you look _so _familiar," he pondered.

"Come on, Mr. Black. The dance floor awaits and so does that car of yours."

"Wait, wait, wait," James stopped, "Just to make it clear, all you want is some fish and chips?"

"With some cheese," she added.

"That's all?"

She smirked, "That and," she leaned in and her lips positioned beside his ear, "You can't fall in love with me."

James stiffened, blinked and then looked at her.

She was _smirking_.

What on earth was happening this night?

He composed himself, "You," he pointed at her and smiled, "Are playing games. You are a seducer."

She grinned at him, "It takes one to know one," she winked at him, dragging him to the dance floor.

Soon, the two were in the middle of the hot, bright, loud dancefloor, sandwiched in between dozens of other couples.

James gestured at her, in a way saying, "Show me what you've got."

She showed him how she dances and he couldn't but laugh.

"You're stiff," he yelled over the music.

She frowned at him, "Well so are you," she nodded to the bulging little member in his pants.

"Oi, don't look there," he blushed, lucky that the lights hid the reddening, "And I met your hips. You don't sway them."

She swayed her hips and James smiled, "See that was the only problem, Olivia. You're a stunner."

"Smooth talking me won't make me come home with you," she yelled over the music.

James rolled his eyes, "Can't blame a bloke for trying. You're pretty, beautiful even," the words slipped out of his mouth but he tried to keep his cool, staying quiet, and trying to look for her reaction. What the hell was he saying?

Olivia smiled, "Remember my last condition, Sirius. You need my number remember?"

James nodded then smiled at her, as the two began dancing.

**~~O~~**

Roxanne watched as Fred snogged a brunette senseless. She winced.

"It's disturbing watching that," she murmured.

Scorpius chuckled, 'Then _don't_," he was scooping the galleons into separate sacks, each with their names on it. He then fixed them into the small paper chart that had Fred, Louis and James's name written on it. He placed three of the five sacs underneath James's name and one beneath Louis's and Fred's.

"You three really think James is going to win?" Al asked Scorpius, Dominique and Roxanne.

"It's _James_. He lives for this," Dominique laughed.

"I do, too," Rose mumbled, "I just don't want to give him an extra two galleons _and_ my car."

Al raised an eyebrow at her, "Your car isn't part of the bet."

"Yes, but James is persistent. I'm a bit easy to break down," she grumbled.

"You mean James has enough to blackmail you with," Roxanne laughed.

Rose glared at her, "Whatever. By the looks of it, they're all sort of tied, Fred's still got chance, "C'mon, Scorp, let's dance," she tugged her boyfriend to the dancefloor.

**~~O~~**

"Bloody hell," Olivia heard James mutter.

"What?" she asked him.

They were still dancing, rather closely James realized. He answered her, "My cousin… Mary," he made up Rose's name, using Mary, like Rosemary, "She's on the dance floor and I'm sure she betted against me and she's going to try to ruin me. Why don't we go sit, get as far away a possible," he tried to coerce.

Olivia, raised an eyebrow, pouted then shrugged, "Alright. I mean I was just getting used to this dancing thing, but okay."

James lead her back to the bar, ordering both of them a muggle beer and ordered her her fish and chips. He lead them to an empty booth, far from Rose.

Olivia thanked him and took a long sip from her beer, "Ahh. Thanks for that, it's hot over there."

James smiled, "No bloke's ever invited you to the dance floor?" he asked amazed.

"Oh, they have. Thank you, Frank," she smiled to thewaiter as he slid her her fish and chips, "But they've never been as persuasive or _honest _as you."

James chuckled, "You're a bit scary, really. You read me like a light up, neon sign."

"Well, you just call for attention," she said smugly, taking a bite of her haddock. She pushed her chips over to James, offering him some.

He picked a fry up and pointed it at her before eating it, "So how good of a date am I so far, Olivia?"

She pretended to ponder on it and shrugged, "You're a six so far."

"Six!?" he exclaimed, "Why, I've _never_ been rated so lowly."

Olivia snorted, "Well, to remind you, this _is_ a a 'bet date' and also, you're rubbish with your words sometimes."

James frowned at her, "Well I was going to say you're about a seven and a half."

"Seven and a half," she mused approvingly, "Not bad, but I was hoping for an eleven," she flashed her hands in front of them.

He laughed, "Be proud. Eight's the highest on my scale so far. No ones ever passed eight."

"Alright, alright, alright," Olivia nodded, "I'll change that tonight-"

"Not even the girl that's given me the _greatest_ shag has gotten a _nine_-"

"Ew. Ew. Did not need to hear that," she waved her hands at him, scrunching her face up, "I was going to go dance with you again. Convince your party that I like you and get you your prize. I _did not _need to hear about your sex life," she laughed.

James smiled at her, sneaking a glance at her scrunched up, slightly disgusted, thinking about his bed life. He leaned in closer to her he didn't need to yell, "This doesn't just need to be a '_helping with my bet'. _I've heard that I'm quite the shag," he winked.

She raised her eyebrows at him, "Modest aren't you? For your information, , I do not plan on having you bed me tonight," she stated proudly.

"Tonight? Maybe tomorrow night, we can do it next week too if you like. I'm a bit busy on Sunday and the weekdays, I've got work you see."

"You're bloody ridiculous," she shook her head.

"Olivia, do you have a boyfriend?" he asked her.

She shrugged, "I had one."

"And?" he drawled.

She glared at him, "And now I don't. _Had._ Past tense."

"Did you leave him?" he asked, nonchalantly.

Her features softened at his assumption that _she _left _him._ She smiled sadly and nodded.

"Good," James said, "I always think the bird should kick the git out to the curb."

"And what makes you think he deserved it?" Olivia mused.

He gave her a look over, "Love, you don't look like the type to go stray and you're also too good of a catch to leave, I've got a feeling that Paris was a wanker."

"Paris? Who's Paris?" she asked, confused.

"Paris, from _Romeo and Juliet_. I hate that name. It's so-"

"Wankerish," Olivia nodded, finishing his sentence, "What name do you like?" she asked, laughing.

James looked up, thinking, "Well James is a nice name. Of course Sirius, but I like Napoleon."

"Like the little guy?" Olivia laughed.

"No, you dolt. The pig from _Animal Farm_. He's an amazing antagonist. Also it's quite adorable. A pig named Napoleon?" he smiled.

"You _do _read," she laughed again.

James looked at her, confused, "What do you mean?"

"Nothing. Nothing. Nothing," she waved her hands, "Back to the names; why do you say James?" she asked.

James hoped he didn't pale, this wasn't going to go well if she found out he lied to her, "It's a nice name don't you think. Short, easy to remember, charming," he sneaked a glance at her, checking if she'd let it go.

She was nodding, "Alright. Back to how this conversation started; why do you ask if I'm single or not?"

"Because you don't want to sleep with me!" he laughed.

She was laughing too now, "You're _ridiculous_."

"I'm _Sirius_," he said.

"You did _not_ just- Oh my god," she was laughing even harder.

Her laugh was adorable, James realized, as it wrang in his ears. She was trying to contain her laughter, trying to keep it to a giggle, but she kept bursting out into a whole new round of laughs all over again. It was contagious enough to make James smile.

She was gasping for breath by the time she was done laughing, "Your joke wasn't even that funny. God, I've drank a bit much, huh?"

James shook his head, "Your bottles not even half done!" but he had noticed she drank from it plenty.

"Anyways, I haven't asked you, what do you do for a living? I've told you I'm a sports journalist, how about you?" she asked.

James searched for something to say in the little time he had, "I'm a... poley."

"You mean a police?" she asked.

"That's what I said," James coughed, "Police. Anyways," James wanted to steer the conversation away, "You write sports, do you play any?"

She tilted her head, "Ehh, just recently."

"How long have you been writing for the paper?" he asked.

"Longer than I've been playing, that's for sure," she said.

James gaped at her, "Really? Because I believe you have no opinion of a sport if you don't play it," he said proudly.

She gave him a mean look, "Excuse you. I can have an opinion because I love the sport, I commentated games when I was in school, too. My father also played for quite a famous team when I was growing up," she said pointedly, " I think I know what I'm talking about. I'd tell you who we was, but then you'd find out who I really am."

James thanked the wizards, he didn't know any muggle athletes, just Quidditch players like Gwenog Jones, Olaf Andersen, Katrina von Glockenspieler, Oliver Wood, his hero, his own mother, Ginerva Weasley Potter, who played for the Holyhead Harpies.

**~~O~~**

"Where did James go?" Dominique asked, sucking on her lime.

Al shrugged, "Probably went to charm the poor bird."

Roxanne snickered and smiled, "This is going to an _easy _bet to win."

"That _is_ if James does beat Fred. He's almost got the girl undressed," Al pointed to the bar where Fred and his bird were getting frisky."

"Have you seen Louis?" Dominique asked, "Victoire's going to have a cow if the boy wakes up on the curb again."

**~~O~~**

Louis himself was doing pretty well with the girl. The two of them were in the exact middle of the dance floor, sweating, stealing kisses and rubbing against each other. She made a show of whispering things in his ear, glancing at other girls and smirking, and kissing him when songs ended. Louis _loved _this.

**~~O~~**

"By the sounds of it, , you're a walking STD," Olivia laughed after he asked for the billionth time why he couldn't bed her.

James pouted at her, "I'm not. I'm sure I'm not, I'm responsible."

"No," she answered.

He shrugged and leaned back into the seat, "Fine, your lost, don't come back to me when you need a good shag."

"Fine," Olivia laughed again, "It's totally fine."

He watched her take a sip of her drink, and really studied her. She was just more than just strawberry blonde hair and fair colored long legs; she had slight imperfections like a tiny, almost invisible scar on her right knuckle, another mole on her collarbone, two dimples that weren't really parallel but close enough, a few freckles on the tip of her nose, and once again, another little mole on her right earlobe. Thin, soft, pink lips. Tiny speckles of brown littered her green eyes, making it hard to decide what colour her eyes really were. She had a birthmark, shaped like a flower, on her wrist.

"You alright, Sirius?" she asked, snapping him out of his daze.

"Sorry what?" he shook his head.

She shrugged, "Nothing, you just seemed a bit zoned out."

"I'm fine, it's just," he squinted at her, "You look _amazingly _familiar."

She looked back at with the same amazement, "You _really _don't remember me," she whispered.

James was confused, "What do you mean? Do _you _know me-"

He was cut off by the smack of Olivia's lips against his, urging him to move along hers. James didn't hesitate to join her. He leaned forward, making her lean back into the booth's cushion. She moaned and bit his lip, tugging on his arm with one hand and his hair with the other.

He was so consumed in the kiss he whimpered a bit when she pulled. He was _so_ consumed in the kiss, he hadn't noticed she scribbled something on his arm. He didn't think of it until she leaned towards his ear, whispered, "_I _know _you James Sirius Potter," _and stood up from her seat, grab her bottle and leave the booth.

Before James could follow her out, her black bag had popped out of nowhere on her arm and she sauntered out of his view.

James watched, completely bewildered, sitting alone in his booth.

**~~O~~**

"And she was gone. Poof," he told Rose, Roxanne, Dominique, Scorpius and Al. His head rested on his hand, while a bottle was clutched in the other, "She left this on my arm, _then left_."

_Angry - straight Wood. # 795/265 Bricks/stone Street_

Rose cackled, "You were _Jamesed_," she clapped.

He scowled at her, "I've never just kissed a girl and left her hanging."

"Right. Instead, you sex her up, _then _leave her before she wakes. Not as bad," Rose shrugged.

Al looked at his brother, "Why do you care anyways, mate? I've never seen you so distraught over a girl. You usually would have shrugged it off by now."

James took a long sip of his drink and shook his head, "I told you. It's not a _usual_ night. She's not _usual_. She's…" he pondered off, looking for the right word.

"Special?" Dominique offered.

James didn't answer, taking another long sip from his bottle.

Rose watched him. She watched his usual bright, mischievous brown eyes, become confused and bothered.

She gasped.

"_You love her_."

James's eyes grew wide, and he scowled at her, "No I don't! Shut up!" he yelled childishly over the music.

"Holy hippogriffs, James is in love," she repeated, "Al, owl your sister in Hogwarts! Tell her! Oh my Godric's Hollow!"

James glared at her and everyone else who was smiling.

"Will of you shut up and wipe the damned smirks off your faces!" he roared.

Al chuckled, "Oh, mums going to _love _this."

"Bloody hell, where's Fred and Louis. I want to get out of here now," James grumbled.

"Speaking of the devils," Roxanne smiled.

James looked up and saw his two cousins racing towards them a smug look on their faces.

"Hello, hello, hello _ladies_- James!" Louis gaped.

"I knew it! I knew _he'd _win!" Fred cursed as he caught up to Louis.

"Bloody hell!" Louis grumbled, "I was _so _close-"

"I didn't bloody win you wankers!" James scowled.

The two other boys stared at James, their jaws dropping.

"I won," Louis said quietly, "I won!" he said louder.

"How did I lose to _Louis_," Fred rambled.

James glared at them and rolled his eyes, "Bloody hell. Get the two of them to the floo. I want to go home."

Al frowned at him, "Are you really going to let this mystery girl ruin your night?"

"She might not really be a mystery," Scorpius said. His eyes were concentrated on something and his lips were pursed as if he was thinking of something.

"What're you going on about, Malfoy?" James asked.

"You said she was working on something earlier right?"

"An article for the newspaper she writes for. She's a sports journalist. Why?" James looked at him skeptically.

"Where did she put her bag, by the way, when you two went to dance?" Scorpius asked.

James thought about it, "I-I don't know."

"And she wrote _Angry-straight Wood _on your arm, am I correct?"

"Yes, Scorpius. Now what the hell are you getting on to?" James groaned.

"Well, she's trying to get you to decipher this… this bad penis joke," Scorpius grinned, "I'm guessing, Olivia's not really her name and that this," he pointed to his arm, "Is and she wants you to floo her."

"I'm sorry what?" James asked confused, "Floo her? She's a muggle-"

"Are you sure? Did she tell you was 100% not magical? If her bag disappeared and reappeared out of nowhere, if her bottles filled up by themselve's _magically,_ if she knows who you are, I'm pretty sure she's a witch."

"Olivia's a witch," James mumbled.

"And she probably does write for a paper. You just caught her in the act doing it, so she couldn't lie to you and tell you otherwise. What is the most famous wizarding paper we know?" Scorpius asked.

"_The Daily Prophet_," James whispered.

Scorpius nodded, "She probably writes for it. Her names probably in the newspaper."

James smiled and clapped the blonde on the arm, "You. You are _brilliant._ I am so happy I kept you around. You, you are spectacular."

Rose turned away from Louis and Fred to look at what her two other cousins and boyfriend were up to. James had a victorious smile on his face while Al and Scorpius were smiling with him.

"What happened? James is happy already? Aww booo, I was hoping it'd last to the morning."

"You, my red head, are a meanie. But a _genius _for sleeping with this bloke. We need a newspaper. _The Daily Prophet_. I'm going to find out who Olivia really is," James declared.

Rose blinked at him, utterly confused, "Okay. Alright. I think we all had a bit to drink. We should go home now. Your flat boys?" she clapped.

"Not me," Louis said, "I've got to go. Misty's waiting for me," he grinned, "Thanks for the spending money, Rosie. Mitsy and I are going to have fun," he waved goodbye, pocketing his sack of coins.

"What's that on your arm?" Fred asked James, "Angry-straight Wood?" he laughed, "Why've you got a-"

"Bad penis joke," everyone said together.

Fred looked at all of them amused, "On your arm?"

"Long story, mate. I'll tell you on the way to the flat. Let's get going," James said, rubbing his hands together, exiting their booth, "I've got a girl to track down."


	2. Chapter 2

The whole gang (minus Louis) flooed back to James, Fred, Louis and Dominique's flat. It was a magical flat; small on the outside, but big and spacey on the inside. Six bedrooms, a kitchen, two full bathrooms, and one half one. A roomy living room for all of them to lounge in and a spacey backyard.

Rose and Scorpius plopped themselves' down on the couch while Roxanne and Al headed for the kitchen. Fred and Dominique helped James gather all of _The Daily Prophet _articles they had in the house.

"You think Louis has any?" Fred asked.

"Louis," Dominique snorted, "I didn't even know he read."

James dropped a whole pile of at least a dozen thick _Daily Prophets_ on the ground in front of Rose and Scorpius, the stack landing with a _thump._

Fred followed suit while Al helped Dominique carry hers.

"Okay troopers, there's seven of us, three stacks of about twelve of these and one name to find out. It shouldn't be too hard," James clapped.

"Don't all you blokes, plus you Rosie, read the sports section every morning when the paper comes in?" Roxanne asked.

"Well, yes," Rose realized.

"Then how come none of you know the name to the sports journalist?"

"Because I always thought it was Lee Jordan doing it," Scorpius said.

"Didn't even know they changed the writer," Al added.

"All of these are written by Lee Jordan," Fred said, "They're all from last year."

James took a look at the one with the latest date from the pile Fred was going through,

"_30, December 2028. Jordan's Last Ride."_

"He retired at the end of last year," James mumbled.

His eyes scanned the newspaper, going through page through page until his eyes landed on a small section on the bottom right corner of the _Quidditch Poll_ standings. It was an announcement.

"_Calling to young, fresh minded witches and wizards looking for a place in the _Prophet _and have a love for Wizarding Sports! The _Daily Prophet _needs an inspiring, new writer for _The Daily Snitch _with strong, unbiased opinions, a sense of humour and a determination to do whatever you can do to get the latest sports scoop! Contact _The Daily Prophet _editor and chief, Barney Cuffe!_

"She's new to the paper," James said.

"Not really," Roxanne said, pointing to a spot on the paper. It read, "_Article 265 by Olivia Wood. _This is her latest."

"_Olivia Wood_?" James asked, "That's not right," he shook his head, "Her name _cannot_ be Olivia."

"What makes you say that?" Rose asked.

"She's definitely a witch. Where do all witches go for school?" he pressed.

"Hogwarts," Rose answered.

Dominique shrugged, "I went to Beauxbatons."

James ignored her, "_Olivia Wood_ doesn't ring a bell. _Olivia _must be a pen name."

"Is Wood familiar?" Scorpius asked, "Wood is probably her last name, that's why the 'W's capitalized on your arm."

"Wood?" Fred smiled, "Like _Oliver Wood_?"

Al smiled with him, "_Oliver _Wood_. Olivia _Wood_. _Quidditch _player. _Quidditch _writer_. James, I think you're in love with your childhood heroes daughter."

James ignored him, too, "I don't remember there being a Wood though at Hogwarts when we were there."

"There were certainly none in our year," Fred nodded. The two cousins were in the same year together, as was Dominique, only _she_ went to France.

"Same," Scorpius said, he Rose and Al were two years younger than Fred, James and Dom.

"She looked like she was our age though, or at least _close_. She couldn't have been Lily's age, or Victoire's. She couldn't have been too young or at least a year older than me." James said.

"She must've been in Louis's year!" Roxanne gasped. Roxanne herself was a year younger than Scorpius, Al and Rose.

"Bloody hell," James muttered, "The one time the prince is useful, he's not here."

"Doesn't Hogwarts give you yearbooks?" Dominique asked.

All their faces fell, "I don't have mine," Fred mumbled.

"Neither do I," Rose said and everyone then agreed.

"Mine's at mum and dad's," James sighed, "And their in Italy at the moment with the house on complete lockdown. Dad's got spells on every wall and corner."

Dominique frowned, but then smiled again, "Louis's the type of egomaniac to keep all his class pictures, club photos, really anything that has his on it, stored in his room. I'm sure he's got a yearbook in there," she hurriedly stood up with James and ran to Louis's room.

Upon opening the door, James and Dominique crashed into it as it was locked.

"Bloody hell," James grumbled, "_Alohomora,_" he said. The door didn't unlock, "_Alohomora,_" he rattled the knob.

"Bloody hell, what does Louis have in there that has to be locked up so well?" Dominique swore, pushing the door, "I just want James to find love already!" she roared.

James huffed and let go of the door knob, "I guess this'll wait till morning."

They returned to the living room with the rest of their cousins. He plopped himself onto the couch, his head in Dominique's lap, "The _one time_ I get serious about a girl, she turns out to be a complete mystery and completely cryptic."

Rose shrugged, curling into Scorpius, "I like this girl. Any girl that can keep _you _on your toes, is a girl that's good especially for you."

"Try cracking that bad penis joke on your arm," Fred advised.

James looked at it, "Angry-straight Wood."

"Maybe you're supposed to find words like those ones," Scorpius said, "Angry could be like furious, straight could mean line. Or Translate the words into other languages and it might make sense."

"You're on to something, Malfoy," James sighed, "I'll try the first one since I don't know any language other than english," he furrowed, "I'll take line, so Blank-line Wood."

"Another word for angry could be…" Roxanne started.

"Mad!" everyone said together.

They were all smiling like crazy.

"Mad-Line Wood. Madline Wood. Mad-uh-line Wood. Madeline Wood! We've got a name. Madeline Wood!" James cheered. He looked down at the rest of the writing, _#_ _795/265 Bricks/stone Street. _"Al, you're good at Arithmetics. Divide 795 by 265."

"Bloody hell, James, I'd like an easier one," Al complained.

James glared at him, and Al rolled his eyes, "Fine, fine. Carry the five, divide that, and," he had a quizzical look on his face, "3? Yes, 3."

"#3 Bricks/stone Street," James frowned, "Do any of you know where Bricks/stone street is?"

"Does it matter? You've got a name, an address - sort of - try it!" Fred laughed.

James sat in front of the fire and was about to throw the floo powder in until Rose clapped her hand over his, "No."

"No?" he stared at her _bemused_.

"No," she confirmed, "Don't want to like _eager_, do you?"

James thought about it and nodded, "Right. Right," he sighed, "I'll wait till-"

"Till Louis comes back," she finished for him.

He nodded again, returning to his spot on his couch.

A few more drinks passed around, blankets were distributed and the lights had been shut off, the flat was still and quiet within the hour, as they all fell asleep.

**~~O~~**

Louis unlocked the door to the flat. A quarter until lunch, he was feeling pretty hungry, disappointed when he didn't see Dominique cooking through the window.

He was half surprised when he saw all of them passed out on the couches in the living room. He half suspected it noticing James's state the night before.

What could've bothered his cousin so much? He had no idea.

To wake them up, Louis reached for the doorbell outside and rang it, holding it for a while.

They all jumped and spotted him, groaning as they let their heads back into their pillows.

"Moooooorning," he said cheekily.

Rose groaned even louder, giving him a rude gesture before snuggling in closer to Scorpius.

"And I thought _I_ was going to have an _active _night," Louis smirked, "What did you all do?"

"We tried finding James's bloody mystery girl," Roxanne grumbled.

"And we did," Fred added.

"And I need to know if you know her," James finished.

Louis look at him surprised and confused as he sat down on the arm of the couch James and Dominique were on. "_Know her? _As in if I slept with her? Because the only muggle girls I know are the ones I bed."

"That's disgusting, Lou Lou," Dominique grumbled.

"She's not muggle," James said, "She's a witch. And I do believe she was in your year," he yawned.

"My year?"

"Do you have your yearbook?" Al asked, "I want to know why we've never noticed this girl before."

Louis shrugged and left to get his yearbook.

Giving it to James, he said, "What's the bird's name? I probably know her."

"Madeline Wood," James said, "Madeline, evil, Wood," he was _flying _through the pages.

"Sounds familiar," Louis grumbled, "So you've got a name, know the girl, why don't you floo her?"

"'Cause Rose said not to," James was completely absorbed in the book.

"Madeline Wood, Madeline, Wood. Madeline. Wood. Sounds _very_ familiar," Louis drawled, lifting his feet up onto the coffee table. Dominique would've scolded him, but instead she stretched out, laid her head in his lap and her feet in James's.

Finally, James stopped flipping through the pages, "I found her," he whispered, Dominique sat up to see, "_Madeline O. Wood. Ravenclaw_," he read.

"Lemme see that," Louis pulled the book away. The girl in the moving picture gave him a nervous smile and a shy wave. "Madeline. This little Maddie. The _most discreet _girl I've ever met. Used to try and talk to her but she'd cower away as if I was the new dark lord or something."

Rose looked over his shoulder, "I can see why James hadn't noticed her before. She's not really his type."

And James couldn't help but accept that it was true. The Madeline Wood in the yearbook had a faint acne problem, she was thin faced, thin armed, legged, bodied, and her hair was a bit stringy.

"I also don't believe you've tried to talk to her, Louis. What would someone like _you_ want from her?" Rose added.

He glared at her, "She's bloody brilliant in charms _and _potions. I needed help. She's also the announcer for Quidditch games at school."

"I-I've never noticed," James stuttered.

"That's because she commentates all the Gryffindor games while Finnigan does the others. She fills in for Finnigan," Louis explained.

"She was a bit of a shadow, that's why it was so hard to notice her, mate. Don't feel too bad for being a superficial asshole," he said. Dominique elbowed his gut. "Anyways," he wheezed, "I'm guessing she's _different_ now since you did notice her. Was she your conquest last night?"

James nodded ashamedly.

Louis snapped his fingers, "Thomas Finnigan sent me a magazine from Quidditch Illustrated. He said a classmate of ours was in it. It must be her since she's the new writer!" he ran to his room retrieving the magazine, "This is Madeline Wood? Bloody hell, she _gorgeous_ now!"

James took the magazine from him. Madeline or Olivia or whatever, was wearing a Puddlemere United Jersey, holding a notepad in one hand and a broom in the other. She was leaning in, the neck of her shirt caught in her teeth seductively. James eyes darkened at the sight of how sexy she looked. Then he remembered how Louis had this in his _room_, and how Thomas Finnigan had his own copy and how every other bloke who subscribed to the magazine had it. His face burned.

Al snorted, "I've told you this before, but I never really knew it'd happen. Your insensibility towards girl's feeling will later bite you in the bum. The girl you've gone to school with for six years and hadn't noticed _once_, is the same girl that would get you to fall unbelievably in love with."

Roxanne hit him in the head, "I don't remember you noticing her either."

Al blushed.

"I just don't know how I know so little about her, and she knows so much about me," James sighed.

Rose snorted, "James, I'm pretty sure the papers have their own library for the number of times you've made appearances. From the day Aunt Ginny found out she was pregnant with you, to a week ago when _The Prophet _got your intake on the Minister's corruption. You're a usual in the papers."

James groaned and frowned.

Fred, noticing the look on James face sighed, "How about we have lunch outside while James handles some stuff."

Rose nodded, stretching her arm over Scorpius's shoulder, "Good with me."

They all filed out to the back porch, Dominique wrapped in a blanket, Louis's arm around her shoulder. Al and Fred walked behind Roxanne, poking her in the back, annoying her.

As Scorpius shut the back porch sliding door, the flat went completely quiet. James sighed, rubbed his face and kneeled in front of the fireplace.

Digging his hand into the bowl of floo powder, he tossed it into the fireplace and said, "Madeline Wood," the fire went ablaze in green flames and James got the view of a light blue wall, a wall table pressed against it, a mirror hanging over. Nothing else could be seen in his view. Disappointed, James was about to put the fire out when he heard her voice.

"Yes, how early can the trucks come? 12:30? Alright. Number 3 Brixton Street West," she said, "Alright, thank you. Good day."

He could hear her walk away farther from the fireplace, and the flames began to die out.

Soon his view of the house disappeared. James got up, showered and dressed, grabbing his coat and walking out of the flat.

**~~O~~**

"Where do you think he could've gone?" Dominique frowned.

Al opened the bathroom door, "He must've just left, there's still a draft."

"He went to see the girl, I spect," Scorpius smirked.

Rose snorted, "He's really bloody serious about this."

Fred shrugged and sighed, "I don't know, it's a first time thing, he's probably bloody nervous about this all."

**~~O~~**

James let out a shaky breath, staring at the coloured, two story townhouses.

"Number 3 Brixton Street," he mumbled, "West. Alright," he let out another breath.

He walked towards the townhouse where two big and red moving trucks were parked. He passed Number 1, then Number 2 till he finally got directly in front of Number 3, a light mauve coloured house with white panes and a dark roof.

Two Muggle men exited the front door carrying a long, wide box. Madeline followed in tow, wearing a shirt and overalls, her tied up.

Her hands sat on her hip as she watched the men. Her ponytail was messy, and one buckle of her overalls were undone.

She was about to go back into the house when she caught his glance. She raised an eyebrow, then smiled. He heard her say to the men, "You all must be hungry. I've got sandwiches on the back porch and some orange juice for all of you."

"Oh thank you, ma'am," one of them said, "We'll be quick."

Madeline nodded, "Help yourselves," she said as the men went into the house. She stuck her hands in her pockets and skipped down the steps. James walked towards her, smiling, his hands in his jeans.

"Hullo," she said to him.

"Hullo," James said back, "Madeline Wood."

She smirked at him impressively, nodding, "Was half hoping you'd find it out when I was gone," she pointed at the moving trucks behind her with her thumb.

James pouted at her, "You didn't want me to find you?"

"I said I was _half _hoping. I sort of wanted you to find me," she bit her lip, rolling on the balls of her feet.

James smirked, "Alright," he nodded, "Alright, _Madeline_. By the way, _beautiful _name. I like it more than Olivia."

She grinned, "Madeline _Olivia _Wood."

"Explains the 'O'. Big fan of your dad by the way. Anyways, as you know, James _Sirius _Potter," he held his hand out for her to shake.

She shook it, "I guess we're a lying duo, huh?"

"That's the best kind," he said.

She snorted, "So no hard feelings?"

"None," he said, stepping closer to her.

She raised her eyebrows at the movement and looked away nodding and smirking, "Wow. Alright-"

"You see," he whispered into her ear, "You've intrigued me a bit last night. Had me thinking about you for hours, trying to decipher your little note," Madeline glanced at his arm as he continued, "I think I deserve some sort of compensation for deciphering it."

Madeline bit her lip, nodding, "What did you have in mind, Mr. Potter?"

He grinned, "A date. A lunch date. I'll help you out here, we'll drop off your things to wherever you're moving to and we can go grab some lunch. Haven't had any, you see."

"Well there's four more men in my backyard eating sandwiches, care to join them?" she asked cheekily.

James leaned back and glowered at her, "I knew you were playing games since-"

"I told you not to fall in love with me," she finished for him, "You lost the last game so we're still playing mine-"

James cut her off by leaning in and kissing her _hard._ It was Madeline's turn to be caught off guard. James moved his lips slowly against her trembling, thin ones. She inhaled the smell of his peppermint breath and tasted the flavour of it, too. His hand had closed around her face, holding her cheeks as hers snaked onto his chest, tugging a bit on his shirt. He bit her lip, pulling it away from her, making her gasp.

She tugged it back away from him, and noticed how labored her breathing had gotten. Her chest was heaving as she stared up at him, him in the same exact state.

"No more games," James said huskily.

"Yeah," she nodded, gasping for air and leaning into his chest, "No more games. Just lunch. I hadn't had lunch either. There's two more boxes in there, and then everything'll get moved to the studio I'm renting. Then we can have some bloody lunch."

James smiled, "I don't understand why you don't just use magic," he whispered, "You _are _a witch."

She began walking back to the townhouse, James close in tow, "Like I said, I was half hoping you'd find me, thought I'd buy you some time. You Gryffindors _take forever_ to decipher such things-"

"My father is Harry Potter y'know," he quipped.

"Yes, I know. Everyone knows."

James paled, "I'm sorry I didn't recognise you. I'm sorry I didn't even know you."

She shrugged, "Hogwarts was a hatching age for me. Don't worry about it, I wouldn't have either. Don't forget you said I was quite familiar. Anyways, my landlords a muggle, would be really suspicious if everything got moved within minutes," she winked.

James wrapped an arm around her waist as they walked up the stairs, "You're a handfull, you know that right?"

She shrugged once more, "You're an arrogant, self righteous, toe rag who needs to stop looking in the mirror and start looking out of windows."

"Bloody hell," James cursed, "You're going to kill me."

He kissed her.

* * *

><p><strong>Follow, favourite and review!<strong>

**Thanks for wasting your time!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Okay, so I realized that I made the story's status 'Complete' when I still had this chapter to put up. If I left the first one the way it was, it'd make James look like a total jerk, shallow, discriminative, prejudice and all. I don't like that.**

**Enjoy.**

* * *

><p>James pulled out Madeline's chair, waited till she settled, then sat down himself, adjacent from her.<p>

They had waited for the movers to finish, James using some magic to make it faster, drove to Madeline's new place, to James's delight. It was a nice spacious studio for one. Her window looked over a river that stretched through London. She thanked the movers, paid them goodbye, then changed into a jacket and jeans, ready for hers and James's date.

She was already skimming through the menu, her cobalt blue fingernails sliding over the cursive font of the menu.

James opened his, saw that they had a some form of a fancy bacon burger with fries, nodded, then shut his menu.

Madeline glanced at him, "Quick decider," she smiled.

"I'm not picky," he said.

She smirked, "Lie."

James felt a wave of guilt pull him into river.

Seeing the colour drain from his face, Madeline rolled her eyes, "Joking. Don't eat up my words too much, will you?" she laughed. She found what she was looking for, called over the waiter with a wave of her hand.

"I really am sorry for not knowing who you were," James apologized for the hundredth time that afternoon, "I mean your dad's basically my hero. How did I not recognise you?"

Madeline shrugged, waiting for the waiter still, "It's a bit hard for someone like me to get notice by someone as famous and sought after as _the _James Sirius Potter. And thanks, your dad's my hero, too. Actually he's everyone hero-"

"May I take your order?" the waiter interrupted her.

Madeline smiled, "Yes, please. I'll have the scallops and bacon… erm some fries on the side would be nice, too."

The waiter nodded and jotted down her order, "Your drink?"

"I'll have a 7 up, with a lemon please," she smiled.

The waiter turned to James, raised his eyebrows, "The bacon burger sounds good. I'll have fries instead of the baked potatoes though. I'd like a coke."

The waiter nodded, jotted down and smiled, "Your orders will be served shortly."

Madeline sneaked a look at James, whose head was hung low, fingers fiddling with each other.

"Can you stop feeling bad?" she rolled her eyes, "Like I said, I wouldn't have known Madeline was Madeline now."

James raised an eyebrow.

Feeling like she had to explain it, she sighed, "After Hogwarts, I got really _sad_," she mumbled, "I had super good grades, I was a prefect and I was really good with handling the sports and all. So _obviously_, I wouldn't have trouble with getting a job. _Lie_. Wizarding Britain as we know it is superficial, prejudice and rude, so as much as I applied for Ministry jobs, common, simple jobs, even the most basic ones that pay so little, I couldn't get hired because I was _bland. _You'd think at eighteen I'd lose the pimples, gain some skin and have nicer hair. You'd think I'd try make up and all… but I didn't.

'I'm the only daughter. I've got an older brother, Nick Wood, famous Quidditch Player for Puddlemere United?" she offered, James nodded, being very familiar with the name, "Well, yeah," she continued, "Only girl other than mum. Dad and Nick were more influential than Mum was, though. I was really into Quidditch, but I couldn't play because I was like super skinny and sick all the time so Mum wouldn't allow it. I liked watching Dad and Nick fly and toss the Quaffle around, then they'd come down and talk to me about it. Dad would ask me what Nick did wrong and then Nick would make a joke about how if Dad hadn't done this and that then maybe he'd still be playing," she had a faint smile on her face, remembering.

James was quite familiar with Oliver Wood's great Quidditch accident of 2017, where he got to bludgers in the back and the stomach, injuring him so badly he couldn't play Quidditch anymore. James was _devastated_ except only until Harry had taken him to St. Mungo's to visit Wood and check how he was doing. Two years later, Oliver Wood became the Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports.

"Anyway, I was really into the things they were, so it pulled me away from the girly things like hair shining potions, acne removal remedies, teeth straightening charms, make up, etcetera. So I didn't care what I looked like, I was ugly, I was nerdy and tomboyish, and I was horrifically boney to the point that you could almost hardly pinch some skin, and I was- I just wasn't good looking, not even decent.

'I didn't care though until after Hogwarts I realized how _essential _looks were," she rolled her eyes, "I should explain why I was sick though. It's really stupid and actually does have to do with my early insecurities and looks. When I was like _seven_, I was really chubby. Like it wasn't bad chubby, but like chubby. The other seven year olds called me Mad Cow Maddy. So really young, I just lost a desire to eat. And I got sick. And I got skinny. It's sort of like what muggles call anorexia. Mum was really distraught over it, she wanted to help me but vitamins and magic don't really work if I didn't want it to. I just didn't want to be fat again.

'So I got to Hogwarts like super skinny. And people still sort of singled me out for it, but I got used to skipping meals and not eating when I should. So I let _that _go and engrossed myself in my studies and sports. Then I had this whole acne issue in the third year. I mean first and second year was alright, lots of people like skinny people, but then the pimples kicked in and I was sort of forgotten again. I had _some _friends. Really good people. So Hogwarts wasn't hell for me.

'My brother was my best friend though. He wasn't like me. He had mum and dad's amazing looks and he was charming and sociable and confident. I wasn't. But he loved me. Made me feel better about myself as much as I could.

'Anyway, after Hogwarts, things got to me. I was sick, but I needed a job, and I had to change some things. I wanted to change my whole sickness thing so tried eating more, but I threw up a lot when I did. Finally, my mum's brother asked if I could fly over to the United States, in an airplane, a muggle transportation device, and stay with him. Mum's muggle, so is the rest of her side of the family. My Uncle was newly divorced at the time. Anyway, he said he could help me with my health issues, he's a gym instructor in the States. So I flew over, and we did as promised. I kept him company, he helped me get fit. I ate better gradually, exercised well, and soon my pimples started going away, and my hair got healthier and things got better. So that's how I went from Madeline _then_ to Madeline _now_. I like what happened to me, really. I'm one of the few magical witches that don't use magic to beautify themselves," she had a small smile.

The waiter had returned right after she ended, their food on his arms. "Scallops and bacon with fries on the side for the Miss, and a Bacon Burger with fries for the bloke. Would you like anything else?"

James nodded, "Our pop," he gestured to the drinkless table.

The waiter blushed, apologized and retrieved their drinks, returning to serve to them,

Olivia went on when the waiter left, "I'm not saying I agree with, 'Looks are everything,' I don't. Only idiots do and unfortunately the world's filled with them."

James felt a pang of guilt hit his gut.

"I just happen to know how far looks can go," Olivia sighed, "I met this bloke in the States. He was blonde, blue eyed. Hmmm, other than the tan skin and white smile, the two of you are really different… looking… as far as I know," she winked at him, "Anyway, met this bloke, and we hit it off. Then came the, 'Oh'. Like the, 'Oh, so you're not really perfect,' 'Oh'. He was really, hmm, let's just put it this way. I didn't feel like a girlfriend, especially when he was with his friends and in public, really. I felt more like a trophy. We'd try talking and doing stuff other than just… the physical aspects, but all he really wanted to do was look at me. He didn't like talking, he didn't like listening to me. He just liked the way I looked. So I ended it when he said I talked to much, bid farewell to Uncle and flew back to Britain, feeling like it was time to come back home. That was all four years by the way.

'I came back and the day I did I saw an opening for a writing job for the _Daily Prophet._ Lee Jordan, Dad was familiar with him, was retiring to work on his own great things. I thought the job was fitting. I can write. I can commentate Quidditch games, I'm punctual, the job seemed great. I applied, got hired, then word got out that I was the Head of the Department of Magical Sports and Games, the once most beloved Keeper of Puddlemere United's daughter. Quidditch Illustrated thought it was pretty cool. So they called me up, asked if I could do an interview and a photoshoot. Don't lie to me, mate. You thought I was pretty sexy on that cover don't you?" she flashed a big smile at him.

James frowned, but a hint of pink colored his cheeks, "You didn't only get a pretty face when you went to America, you must've already gotten a big head."

"Well you've always had one," she said.

He glared at her, "What makes you think I saw Quidditch Illustrated's cover?"

She smirked, "Did you?"

James sighed, "Yeah, I did. Thomas Finnigan sent Louis one and he showed me it," James mumbled, "You _were_ quite… sexy," he sighed, "On the cover."

She smiled, "Why thank you," she winked, "I think you were rather dashing on the cover you took back when you were in the seventh year."

James smiled, too. Back in the seventh year, Quidditch Illustrated wanted some good stuff on the infamous son of Harry Potter, who was said to be even better than _him_ and the first James Potter. Which wasn't all that much of a lie. James was pretty good. He was a Keeper and amazing one at it. They had interviewed him, done a photoshoot and soon, James's face and toppless, toned, torso was advertised on the magazine.

"The 'industry' didn't like using my first name, though. So I got a pen name. My middle name-"

"Olivia," James finished for her.

She beamed, "Olivia Wood. They liked how well it tied in with Dad's name."

"What do you prefer?"

She studied him, "I like the way you say _Madeline_. You can call me Madeline."

"How many people call you that?"

"Mum and Nick. Dad likes using Olivia," she smiled.

James exhaled, "Woooow."

"My whole life's story."

He smiled at her, "I'm really sorry though. And I feel like even more of a tosser now that I only noticed you when you got pretty. I'm really sorry, but understand what really intrigued me about you was not your looks, but was how you were so blasé with me. It bothered me but really _intrigued _me."

"You're just not used to people not ogling over you," she smirked.

He chuckled, "I really am sorry. I think you're quite interesting, and still intriguing and just really cool. I like you."

She snorted, "I think I caught that last part a few kisses ago."

James smiled, "I'm-"

"If you say you're sorry one more time then I'll completely regret that I told you so much," she had her hand over his mouth.

She felt him smirk against her palm, and then she felt him lick it. "Ew!" she shrieked, "James!"

He smiled as she threw her hand away from her.

"So?" he drawled.

"So what?"

He sighed and then pursed his lips together, "I want to go on more dates with you."

She raised an eyebrow.

"Like I said. I think you're amazing. I like you. A lot really."

Madeline nodded, seeming to think about it, "You're not all that bad," she admitted to herself, "I guess it wouldn't hurt to give you a try."

James couldn't help but smile. He noticed her plate was empty now, and he only had a fry left. Picking it up and sticking it into his mouth, he said to her, "Let's go for a walk."

"Please," Madeline agreed, "Some fresh air would be nice."

He put down some muggle money, putting a bit more than he should've. He didn't know how much he should've but he put enough.

Madeline laughed, "You probably paid more than you should."

"Keep the change!" he ignored her and called out to the waiter.

He tugged her out of the restaurant.

**~~O~~**

It was chilly out.

Late September, the leaves were already orange and the wind lingered.

Madeline had her arm looped in James's, both of their hands stuffed into their jacket pockets.

James was telling her a bit about himself.

"Dad really wanted me to play for the major Quidditch teams. I got invitations to PU, the Cannons and the Tornadoes. But I really didn't want to. I could only go fly around for so long. I know _why_ Dad wanted me to, though, so at least one out of Grandpa James, him, Al and I could play professional Quidditch. But I like Aurory. Watching Dad do it for so long, it just looked really cool to me. So at least I _follow_ him, somehow. Al's in to potioneering. Mum's okay with none of us in the League, really. She knows how bad it could be," James said as the walked along a grey brick path, right by a river, the same river that ran past Madeline's studio, a black, steel fences separating them. The trees arched over them, reds and oranges and yellows and browns slowly twirling around them, purple leaves floating down sometimes.

James had to admit it. It was beautiful.

"At least none of you ambitioned to be the next Boy-Who-Lived," she joked.

"Ha-ha," James deadpanned, he shrugged, "That's the thing about Dad. It's hard to get mad at someone who saved the world. I get why he's so touchy sometimes. After everything he's been through? You can't get mad at him too long. Maybe Mum can, but she's just really different," he laughed.

"Your whole family's adorable," she smiled.

James grimaced, "It would be nice if all of Britain didn't see how adorable we were."

She raised an eyebrow, "You're practically the voice of the Potter/Weasleys'! You're in the _Prophet _after almost every major event!"

James sighed, defeatedly, "Kay, I get your point. It's just nice to not be the centre of attention all the time."

She snorted, "You big headed bigot."

James stuck his tongue out.

"You're also a bloody child," she scoffed.

He unhooped his arm from hers, stopping them from walking.

She faced him, his back leaning on the black, steel fence, the river _whooshing _behind him.

"But you like me? Aside the bigotry, the immaturity and flat out stupidity, do _you_ like me?" he asked, his hands that were on her shoulders before, had slid down the length of her arms and into her hands. He held them by the fingers, slowly tangling together.

Madeline stared down at their intertwined fingers, her face impossible to read. It wasn't nervous or sad, anxious or happy. She was just looking at their hands. Then she looked up at him, looking through his bright brown eyes. "Honestly, I feel like an idiot for saying this. I've never done anything like this before and I didn't know I'd end up finding… _this… _like this. But," she sighed, "I like you. For your bigotry, your immaturity and flat out stupidity," she quoted him.

James smiled at her.

"And… it's a bit satisfying having the most popular guy at school notice you after everything you've been through," she whispered, "You're my trophy," she made the joke in her voice notable.

James smirked at her, "I'm alright with being your trophy. I'm a great reward. _Everyone _wants me…"

He went on and on and Madeline couldn't help but laugh at him.

"... And who wouldn't want that in their lives right? I-"

Madeline had wrapped her arms around him, his hands got cold at the loss of her hands' warmth, the cold autumn air replacing it. Her head rested on her chest, his chin resting on it immediately, the strawberry scent of her hair floating into his senses.

He hugged her back, warmth spreading through him.

"We can date," she mumbled into him.

"That's good… for now," he mumbled into her hair.

She chuckled, "And if we fall in love…"

"Then we both lose your bloody game," he tilted her head up, so he can see her eyes.

She was smiling at him. "Are you going to kiss me now?"

He smiled down at her, "Yeah."


End file.
